


i hope that you burn

by lulumina



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: A lot - Freeform, Angst, Canon Compliant, Childhood Memories, F/F, Hurt No Comfort, I'm so sorry, and catra is bitter, and gets emotional, and pretends she doesn't care, catra finds an old childhood hangout, she does, there is no comfort, this is after adora leaves, to her horror, when in reality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 02:45:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17737529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lulumina/pseuds/lulumina
Summary: Catra was better off without that weak-willed, goody-two-shoes Sparkle McPrincess bothering her anyway.At least that’s what she told herself.But deep into another sleepless night, surrounded by snoring Horde cadets, Catra’s brain wasn’t too good at convincing.xx(rated t for mild swears, hints of abuse (shadow weaver) and emotional content)





	i hope that you burn

**Author's Note:**

> catra, catra, catra... what are we going to do with you. :(
> 
> this is basically 2.9k of solid angst, ft. catra's childhood memories and an eliza hamilton homage. 
> 
> enjoy!!

No matter how hard Catra tried, she couldn’t get rid of Adora.

Well, technically, Adora was already gone. She had made her choice, and her choice wasn’t Catra. She sided with a team full of  _ strangers _ rather than the girl she had known all of her life. The girl she had made a promise with. A promise to care and protect each other. A promise that everything would be okay as long as they stuck together. 

Obviously, Adora’s mind was pretty flimsy to be easily persuaded to break a promise that deep by a couple of flashy princesses in glittery capes. Catra was better off without that weak-willed, goody-two-shoes Sparkle McPrincess bothering her anyway. 

But no matter how hard she tried, Catra couldn’t shake the swarming memories of her blonde-haired companion. Memories embedded that deep and for so long couldn’t be tossed away that easily. But they didn’t matter anymore. Adora was gone, Catra now knew she didn’t need her. She could finally step into the spotlight and claim the power that Adora had long kept from her.

At least that’s what Catra told herself. 

But deep into another sleepless night, surrounded by snoring Horde cadets, Catra’s brain wasn’t too good at convincing. Adora always found a way to worm herself back into Catra’s thoughts. Catra’s stupid brain would rather clog itself up with memories, memories of curling up by Adora’s feet or play fighting in the hallways or fantasizing about the future late at night while staring up at the smoggy sky, memories that made Catra’s throat constrict and her eyes itch. The memories wrapped around Catra like an invasive weed, twining around her limbs, prodding at her heart and tightening around her mind until she could barely breathe. Catra never slept with a blanket, but she still felt like a layer of weight was pressing in on her chest, threatening to crush her. 

She needed to get out. 

Escape would be tricky- She couldn’t show anyone she was upset, of course. Showing signs of weakness was a massive no-no in the Horde. Emotions make you vulnerable, and vulnerability makes you a target. It was a lesson taught early on. Crying would earn you a harsh yank to the arm (or worse) and an order to get over it. 

With Shadow Weaver as a matron, tears were commonplace. The girls simply had to be skilled at hiding them. And skilled they were. 

As children with plenty of free time within the sprawling passageways and pipes of the Horde, Catra and Adora knew every nook and cranny of the place. They had at least a dozen tucked away spaces where they could camp out for an hour or two, to talk and draw and play. Those hideaways would do nicely to conceal a grown Catra’s breakdowns, too. 

Catra slipped out of the top bunk and landed quietly on the ground. She crept out of the room, careful not to wake any of her roommates. 

There were guards patrolling the halls, as always, but Catra knew how to evade them from countless nights of sneaking out of bed with Adora. She had their rotations and locations memorized, and was able to scuttle down a hallway right before a pair of armored sentries marched past. 

Hiding behind columns and pipes, ducking into doorways and utility closets, Catra made her way through the Horde’s passageways. Each step she took made her heart a tiny bit lighter, helped ease the pressure from her chest. She didn’t even really know where she was going, only that her feet were leading the way and they seemed to have a plan. 

Even walking down the hallways was unpleasant. Buried memories surfaced everywhere Catra looked- games of hide-and-seek played behind a boiler, footraces down a stretch of corridor, marks on the wall from poorly-erased scribbles when the pair was feeling bold. These memories used to be something to laugh about- when Adora was here.

Now, they were just a razor-sharp reminder of everything Catra would never get back. 

Catra rubbed at her tired eyes and prowled down the hall, searching for a private spot she could curl up and collect her thoughts. Her feet carried her to a passage she hadn’t visited in years. The lights were just bright enough to illuminate the dust mites floating lazily through the air, and the walls smelled musty. 

Clearly, this place hadn’t been patrolled in a while. 

Catra slowed to examine her surroundings. There were rusted pipes running along the walls, veering into clusters at certain intervals. An exposed ventilation shaft ran along the length of the floor, large enough to fit a grown Catra… or two adolescent girls. 

Catra had faint memories of this place- she and Adora had definitely come here once or twice, but it wasn’t one of their typical hideaways. 

Good. Less stuff to remember. 

Catra easily pried open the grate and crawled inside. The shaft was dusty and smelled like dull metal, little slivers of light shining through gaps in the walls. Catra followed her instincts and crawled to the right. Vaguely, she recalled a hiding place tucked away in a corner of the vent- she just had to find it.

After a number of dead ends and backpedals, Catra came across a section of vent blocked by a column of pipes. It was barely three feet across, and Catra couldn’t sit up straight without bumping her head, but there was a sloped grate on the far end that let in a good amount of light and a number of trinkets scattered across the floor, so it was obvious this was the Place. A blanket lay haphazardly on the ground, covered in little rips (probably from Catra’s claws.) Stacked against one wall was a sheaf of paper and a bundle of crayons held together with twine. A number of drawings were tacked up on the wall, depicting Catra and Adora in colorful childhood chicken-scratch.

Catra felt her throat constrict- this place looked as if it had just been inhabited yesterday. She could imagine a younger version of herself and Adora crawling into here, grabbing crayons and furiously scribbling self portraits of themselves as princesses, before they knew it was wrong. 

Before she could scramble out of the nook, Catra’s stupid sentimental brain took the reins and drove her deep into one of the dreaded memories she had come here to escape. 

 

x 

 

Catra sat against the wall, a red crayon clutched in her pudgy fist. She blinked burning tears from her eyes as she scrawled across her paper, crayon tip threatening to rip through the sheet. She was wrapped in a thin blanket with only her hands and face exposed. 

_ Stupid Shadow Weaver. I hate her. I wish she would get zapped by her stupid crystal and get crushed into a million stupid little pieces. All I did was push Lonnie, and it was because she called Adora a teacher’s pet. Lonnie deserved it. Why didn’t Shadow Weaver hurt her instead? _

Catra shuddered when she recalled the sensation of the darkness spreading across her face. Even now, when Shadow Weaver was nowhere to be seen, Catra could still feel the suffocating shadows inching their way across her skin. 

Catra pushed away the feeling and resumed her furious coloring. 

She paused when she heard scuffling down the shaft, moving closer. Her tail twitched nervously as she tentatively sniffed the air, trying to determine the visitor. She caught a whiff of a familiar scent that automatically made her hackles relax and her shoulders loosen.

A head of ponytailed blonde hair poked around the corner. 

“Hey, Catra. Thought you’d be here,” Adora said, crawling over to her friend. 

Catra didn’t say anything, just clutched her crayon tighter and hissed quietly. 

“Can I see?” 

Catra tipped the paper toward Adora, who took it from her hands and inspected it. The drawing depicted Catra with large black claws, ripping into a cowering Shadow Weaver’s cloak. Colored Catra had a wide grin on her face, like it filled her with utmost glee to be taking Shadow Weaver down a peg. A cheering Adora was shown in the background, arms up in a victory pose.

Adora grinned and pointed at the red scribbles spurting from Shadow Weaver’s ripped cloak. “I like this best.”

Catra nodded, the ghost of a smile dancing across her face. “That part was fun to draw.” 

Adora handed the drawing back and grabbed another empty sheet. “Can I draw too?”

“Obviously,” Catra sniffed, shoving the crayon bundle towards Adora. “Just don’t copy me.”

“Nah, I have my own idea,” Adora grabbed the brown crayon and began sketching. The girls sat in comfortable silence for a while, the only sound being the scritch-scritch of crayon on paper. Catra felt herself relax, Adora’s mere presence soothing her racing mind. Sure, drawing was therapeutic, but there was no better repose than spending time with Adora.

In between choosing colors, Catra glanced at her best friend. Adora was sitting on her knees, bent over the floor and coloring carefully in between the lines of her drawing. Her tongue was poking out one side of her mouth and her eyebrows were furrowed.

Times like this, Catra was so happy she had a friend like Adora. Because Adora knew that Catra didn’t always want to talk about stuff, so she was content just spending time and doing little things like coloring. 

Catra’s train of thought was interrupted when Adora sat up and beamed her gapped grin, holding up her masterpiece. 

“Done!” She cheered. “Look. Catra! It’s us!”

Catra examined the crayon art. It showed a stick figure with blonde hair and one with cat ears hand in hand, arms extended and brandishing huge golden swords. A rainbow soared above their heads, lit up by a smiling yellow sun. Shadow Weaver was nowhere to be seen, the way both of them preferred it. 

Catra gave Adora a genuine smile. The drawing was perfect. The perfect future for both of them: strong, in command, and as a pair. 

Because no matter what, they would stick together. 

Adora had promised. 

 

x

 

Catra gasped as she scrambled backward, back in the musty nook. Burning tears spilled from her eyes as she was jolted back to reality. The drawings on the wall were faded, the blanket was dusty, and worst of all-

Adora was nowhere to be seen.

Catra couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

Why did Adora have to be everywhere and nowhere at the same time? Would Catra ever get a rest from seeing her ex-companion everywhere she looked? Her stupid smiling face around every corner, her stupid pretty laugh echoing in the hallways, when in reality Adora was far, far away, being coddled by a bunch of stupid princesses in sparkly capes. 

There was only one way to fix this. 

Catra forced herself to turn back and re-enter the hiding place. Steeling herself, she ripped every sheet of paper down from the walls and crumpled them in the musty old blanket, purposefully looking away from the drawings before her brain tossed her into another memory. The crayons went in as well, making a satisfying crunch against the paper balls. She hoisted the bundle over her shoulder and prowled out of the cranny, leaving a bare ventilation shaft behind her. 

Catra spent the rest of the night sneaking from alcove to alcove, determined to flush out every piece of physical evidence that Adora was ever a part of the Horde. She collected old drawings, hand-made figurines, scraps of shabbily-made capes from their Princess Vs. Horde Soldier games, beaded bracelets constructed out of bent pieces of metal. Everything went into the makeshift blanket sack over Catra’s shoulder. 

Each time the bag grew dangerously heavy, Catra stuffed it behind a column and found a new blanket, filling it with evidence until she needed another one. 

The search took all night, and left Catra exhausted and dragging her feet. 

But she needed to do this. She wouldn’t be able to move forward if she kept getting trapped in the past. 

By the time Catra had scoured every possible hiding place in the cadet building, the sun was threatening to peek through the smoggy sky. Catra knew she had to act quickly, before her fellow soldiers began to stir. 

She poked around in a supply closet until she found a cart with a wide enough platform to hold the sacks. With the bags full of memories loaded onto the carrier, Catra followed a sloping hallway to her end location- the boiler room.

The doors slid open to reveal a sweltering-hot room lined with machine panels, colorful buttons and switches. Catra ignored them all, instead turning her attention to the huge metal furnace against the far wall, pipes and vents slithering their way through the ceiling above. Flames licked at the grille, white-hot and hungry. 

Fire... Catra hated fire. But this was the only way to get rid of the ghosts of her past.

She pulled the cart over to the furnace, careful not to get too close lest her fur get singed by the intense heat. She unwrapped the first bag and was met with a pile of fabric scraps and bracelets. She grabbed a heaping fistful and, steeling her nerves, threw open the grate and flung them into the devouring flames. 

The feeling was intoxicating. Catra’s eyes narrowed and a smirk crept across her face as she observed the scraps curl and turn to ash in the blaze. How poetic, that the memories which made her so weak were going up in flames.

This is exactly what she needed.  _ This _ was her new therapy. 

Catra seized another handful and pitched it into the furnace. Then a third, then a fourth. Soon the entire first bag was empty, and she threw the blanket in after it. 

It wasn’t enough. She needed more. She ripped the second bag clean open with her claws and flung handful after handful of memories into the flames, laughing with glee as childhood drawings and trinkets perished in the inferno. 

Before she knew it, all three bag’s contents were withering in the heat of the furnace. Catra breathed heavily as she assessed the damage. A lingering buzz danced across her skin, enthralling her senses. Adora wouldn’t be bothering her anymore. 

She simpered at the blaze and turned to leave, disregarding the cart. Someone else would take care of it. As she neared the door, a blur of white registered in her peripheral vision. She whipped around, preparing to slash whoever had the gall to spy on her. 

No one was there. Instead, a singed piece of paper lay wrinkled on the floor. Catra bent to pick it up- must’ve been blown away by the heat. She moved to toss it back but paused when she noticed the drawing on the backside. 

Two girls, one with blonde hair and one with cat ears, standing hand in hand with swords. A rainbow arched over their heads. 

The last remaining evidence that Adora was part of Catra’s life. 

Catra’s ears flattened and she felt her hackles rise. It was clear the universe hated her guts, as was evidenced by the sheer amount of times it attempted to make her life a living hell. 

Her claws dug into the cheap paper and she stormed to the furnace, flinging the door open to hurl her stupid past inside. She wouldn’t be better until it was destroyed, until every last  _ scrap _ of evidence displaying her sadness, her reliance, her utter  _ weakness _ was shredded and burned, pulverized to charcoal remains of what her life used to be. Adora made her weak. Adora’s act was to pretend to love and cherish her cat-eared best friend, to hug and console and say things were okay as long as they were together, when in reality Adora was the one climbing the ranks, just waiting for the perfect time to strike and run away from the Horde and away from Catra, marching on to achieve her higher visions of life, which somehow was easier without her best friend holding her back. 

Catra’s hand was halfway to the flames when she felt wetness on her cheeks. She brought a slow, trembling hand to her face and touched the tears sliding across her fingertips. 

What was she doing?

Her motive long forgotten, Catra crumpled. She let sobs overtake her body, shuddering with the waves of emotion rolling across her shoulders. The burning accomplished nothing. The memories were still there. They were part of her, and she was foolish to think that destroying the physical evidence would make them go away. As the tears flowed, Catra curled in on herself and wrapped her arms around her torso, squeezing until she could hardly feel her hands, digging her claws into her skin, trying to distract her brain from the tidal wave of knives in her heart. 

Who knows how long she sat in front of the furnace with the crayon drawing crumpled in her lap. Hours, maybe. Or it could have been only minutes- Catra was too wrapped up in her mind to tell. 

Eventually, she pulled herself up from the ground, flattened the paper in her lap, and stood. Without looking back, she strode out of the furnace room, tremors still echoing across her body.

She had one last stop to make. 

 

x

 

Ten minutes later, Catra joined her fellow cadets for early morning training. Kyle smiled and said hello. Lonnie sneered in greeting. No one asked questions- Catra was known for appearing at random times, or sometimes not at all. No one suspected much of anything, and absolutely no one commented on Catra’s red bloodshot eyes or the scratch marks on her upper arms. 

No one suspected that within the weaving ventwork of the Horde, there was a hidden alcove with a singular crayon drawing hanging on the wall.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sorry 
> 
> you can follow me on twitter @cutecatra or on my tumblr @luluminawrites !!
> 
> thank you so much for reading <3
> 
> drop a comment letting me know what you think!


End file.
